Chapter 7
The baby continued to cry, unimpressed by the havoc he had caused in the heart and mind of the tall dark man standing beside the crib. The face that was usually so remote was working with emotion.
Aislinn, standing slightly behind and to one side of Lucas, pressed her fingertips to her lips in an effort to stem her own emotions. They ranged from anxiety to abject terror.
Her first impulse was to tell him that she was babysitting, that the infant belonged to a friend or relative. But the uselessness of that was clear. The baby had been fathered by Lucas Greywolf. One had only to look at the child to dispel any doubts.
The beautifully rounded head, which hadn't been marred during the easy birth, was covered with midnight-black hair that hugged the soft scalp. The shape of the brow, the angle of chin, the slant of cheekbones, all were miniature replicas of Lucas Greywolf's features.
She watched in growing dread as Lucas stretched out a slender brown finger and touched the baby's cheek. Reverence and awe filled the light-gray eyes. His lips twitched slightly. Aislinn recognized the symptoms of keenly felt emotions. The same slight facial spasms seized her every time she held her baby. The kind of love that welled up inside her when she touched the child couldn't help but be registered on her face.
It terrified her that Lucas was experiencing the same kind of emotional tumult.
She jumped when he flicked the baby's blanket away with a swift motion of his hand. Her maternal instincts went into play when he tore open the tapes securing the disposable diaper. Lunging forward, she clutched his arm, but he negligently shook her hand off and pulled the diaper down.
"A son."
His rusty tone of voice sounded like a death knell to Aislinn. She was almost crazed with panic and wanted to cover her ears and shout denial. Frantically she prayed this wasn't really happening.
But it was. Helplessly she stood there and watched Lucas remove the one-snap sacque. Sliding his hands beneath the baby, he lifted him from the crib. All she could do was watch in mute despair as Lucas took the infant in his arms. The moment Lucas lay the baby against his chest, the child stopped crying.
The instant rapport between man and child gave Aislinn no peace. For once she would have preferred that her baby scream. He did nothing but make those sweet baby sounds against his father's shoulder.
Lucas carried the naked infant to the rocking chair. He folded his long legs low enough to sit in the rocker, awkwardly balancing himself while holding the baby. Under other circumstances, Aislinn might have thought that was a funny sight. As it was, her features were stark. All her worst nightmares were unfolding.
Had the situation not spelled such doom, Lucas's tender exploration of the baby would have touched Aislinn deeply. To see the dark, manly hands moving over the baby with such delicate curiosity was indeed poignant, and she would have had to be a pillar of salt not to be moved to tears by such instant adoration on the part of the father for the child.
Lucas gently turned the baby this way and that in loving inspection. He rolled him over and supported him in one large palm while he smoothed his other hand down the infant's back and over the tiny buttocks. He touched each toe, each transparent fingernail, and examined the baby's ears.
Finally he laid the child on his thighs and looked up at her. "What is his name?"
She wanted to tell him it was none of his business, but unfortunately it was. "Anthony Joseph." She saw an immediate reaction to the name in his gray eyes. "I had a grandfather named Joseph, too," she said defensively. "I call the baby Tony."
Lucas glanced down at the child who was beginning to wave his fists fretfully. "When was he born?"
She hesitated, giving thought to fudging on the dates and thereby negating Lucas's paternity. But his stare demanded the truth. "May seventh."
"You were never going to tell me, were you?"
"There was no reason to."
"He's my son."
"He has nothing to do with you."
He barked a short laugh. "From now on, he has everything to do with me."
Tony was crying inn earnest now, the novelty of hearing a new, deeper voice having given way to hunger. Lucas lifted the baby to his shoulder, and immediately the wet little mouth went blindly searching. The most unexpected sound Aislinn had ever heard was Greywolf's soft chuckle. "That's one thing I can't do for you, Anthony Joseph." Holding the baby in his arms, he stood up and extended Tony toward his mother. "He needs you."
She took the child and laid him back in his crib, hurriedly replacing the diaper Lucas had taken off. She was made clumsy by the baby's strenuous protests, his churning arms and legs, and by Lucas's watchfulness. When Tony was once again dressed and diapered, she lifted him to her shoulder and carried him to the rocker. Sitting there, she rocked him, patting his back and crooning softly. All ineffectually.
"He's hungry," Lucas said.
"I know that," she snapped, taking offense at his implication that she didn't know her own baby's needs.
"Well then? Feed him."
She looked up at Lucas, the baby acting as a fragile shield she held in front of her. "Will you excuse me?"
"You mean will I leave the room?"
"Yes."
"No."
They continued to stare each other down. Miraculously, Lucas was the first to relent. He turned his back and went to stand looking out the window after adjusting the shutters to allow him a view. Aislinn knew then that if this hard man were ever vulnerable about anything, it would be this son. An unbreakable bond had already been established between them, though Lucas hadn't even known the child existed until minutes ago. Would that he didn't know now. He could make her life hell.
"Why didn't you tell me?"
Aislinn, ignoring his question, unbuttoned her blouse and pulled down the cup of her nursing bra. Tony lustily latched onto her nipple and began to suck noisily. She draped a light flannel blanket over her shoulder to cover herself and the baby's head.
"I asked you a question." This time Lucas's tone was imperative.
"Because Tony is my baby."
"He's mine, too."
"You're not sure of that."
He swiveled his head around abruptly. Had modesty not made her flinch, the incisive gray eyes would have. "I'm sure." He was so positive there was no sense in arguing the point. So what if she beat him in a contest on semantics? The facts would remain the same. Tony was his.
"Tony was a biological … accident," she said by way of concession.
"Then why didn't you just get rid of him?"
A shudder ran through her body. "Why didn't you just get rid of it?" her mother had screamed at her when Aislinn informed her parents of her pregnancy. Purposefully she had waited to tell them until it was too late for an abortion, knowing that termination would have been their solution to "the dilemma."
Why hadn't she terminated the pregnancy? Before she went to the doctor, she had had a niggling suspicion in the back of her mind as to the cause of her afternoon malaise. Then there had been the morning bouts with nausea, the sudden bursts of appetite and the sour indigestion after satisfying it. All unusual.
She hadn't consciously entertained the idea that she might be pregnant. She hadn't allowed herself to. But when the doctor told her his laboratory-verified diagnosis, she hadn't been shocked or even surprised. In fact, her first reaction had been a stupendous rush of joy.
After that initial reaction, when reality had set in, she gave considerable thought to the negative ramifications of rearing a child as a single woman. She recognized the grave repercussions, but never did she consider having the pregnancy terminated.
From the moment she had learned of his existence, she loved the child fiercely. Her life suddenly had purpose and meaning. Now she had something to look forward to. There were goals to be met, horizons to move toward.
So now she could answer Lucas's question without hesitation or qualification. "I desperately wanted the baby." Reaching beneath the blanket, she laid her hand on Tony's soft head, lightly rubbing it while he avidly sucked at her breast. "I have loved him from the beginning."
"Didn't you think I was entitled to know about him?"
"I didn't think you'd care."
"Well, make no mistake; I do."
"What … what do you intend to do?" she asked fearfully, despising the tremulous quality of her voice.
"I intend to be his father."
Tony impatiently thumped her breast with his tiny fist. Only that could have distracted her from Lucas's hard stare. "I need to turn him," she said huskily.
Lucas looked down at her chest. Aislinn saw him swallow reflexively before he diverted his eyes.
She switched Tony from one breast to the other. Once he was resettled and nursing again, she said, "I ask nothing from you, Mr. Greywolf. I carried Tony for nine months. I went through the entire pregnancy and delivery without any assistance from you, from anyone. Financially I'm able to provide—"
He came around so suddenly, she fell silent out of fear that he might reach across the room and strike her.
"Do you think a checkbook can supply him with everything he needs?"
"I didn't mean that," she flared. "I love him."
"So do I!" He roared so loudly that Tony's mouth fell still for several seconds before he resumed nursing.
"Be quiet! You scared Tony."
Lucas lowered his volume but not his intensity. "If you think I'm going to abandon my son and let him grow up in your sterile, Anglo world, think again."
She clutched the baby tighter. "What do you mean?"
"I mean that when I return to the reservation tomorrow, he goes with me."
She paled drastically. Even her lips looked chalky. The only color in her face was the deep blue of her eyes, which looked abnormally large as she stared up at the man who was once again her enemy.
"You can't take him."
"I can. I will."
"No!"
"There will be no stopping me."
"I'll have you hunted down like the criminal you are," she threatened.
His lips quirked into a cynical smile. "If I didn't want to be found, I wouldn't be, Miss Andrews. But even if by some remote chance I were, I'd fight you to the Supreme Court if necessary to win my son away from you. I know how. I'm a lawyer, remember? I think he's finished."
His threats had frozen her with fear. By the time she assimilated his last sentence, he was already across the room and crouching down in front of her. Before she could stop him, Lucas removed the blanket from her shoulder.
Tony was lying in her arms, satiated. His plump cheek rested against her breast. His small mouth, pearlized with milk, lay close to her nipple. He was asleep, looking as full and contented as a despot after a three-day bacchanal.
Lucas caressed his sleeping baby's cheek. He touched the soft lips with the tip of his finger. His dark head moved closer. He kissed the top of Tony's head.
Aislinn sat petrified. Too stunned to move. Hardly able to breathe. Lucas slid his hands up over her stomach, wedging them between her and Tony, and lifted the child away from her. He stood and carried the baby to the crib. Tony burped and Lucas released another of those surprising chuckles.
Aislinn forced herself out of the trance that astonishment had imposed. Lucas's nearness had immobilized her. Feeling his breath on her skin had stupefied her. Now she hastily replaced the cups of her bra and buttoned her blouse. She swayed slightly when she stood up. "He's ready to go to sleep now," she said, shouldering Lucas aside as she joined him beside the crib. She turned Tony over onto his tummy.
"He sleeps on his stomach?"
"Yes."
The baby drew his knees up and poked his bottom into the air. He made a few sucking motions with his mouth, then lay still, fast asleep.
"He looks satisfied," Lucas said.
"For now," Aislinn said gently, drawing the light blanket over the baby.
"Well I'm not."